


Now You're Gone (I Wait on You)

by Saunne



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, M/M, Not Beta we die like Shisui, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The chapters aren't linked to each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saunne/pseuds/Saunne
Summary: There was Itachi and there was Shisui.One with the other then one without the other.-OS Collection
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui
Kudos: 10





	1. Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ! Here I am again in the Naruto fandom after 5 years without touching the anime or the manga. This is the first Naruto fanfiction I've written since I was 12. I love Shisui very much and I still mourn his death. And while I don't agree with all of Itachi's choices, I still have a fair bit of empathy for him.
> 
> So here I am writing a sad OS.
> 
> Other OS will surely be added when I find the time to write and especially translate because English isn't my first language. #Baguette-talker (So if you see faults, lemme know please)

He always drowns in his dreams.

Water is the only thing that greets him when he closes his eyes. It’s constantly there, as if waiting for him. It cradles and embraces him like a lover would, soft and silky on his wounds, on the blood that stains his hands. It takes away all the torments and sins, as if they weighed nothing.

But it's a cruel and demanding lover : soft hands swiftly become sharp claws that drag him down, crush his lungs and scrape his ribs viciously. The embrace tightens as the waves rage and he sinks, deeper and deeper…

There is no place for air, here. There is also no place for the blaze that burns in his soul. There is only the cold and its heaviness, the torpor which settles in all of his bones.

He wonders, vaguely, if this is what Shisui felt as he let the Naka claim his body.

He wonders if Shisui feeled warm too, in his last moments, when the lack of air made his lungs burn and the flickering flame of his Katon burned with despair in the pit of his stomach.

He wonders if Shisui finally felt free while what remained of oxygen in his lungs escaped from between his lips as the freezing water greedily claimed his last breath.

He wonders if Shisui was crying, his empty eye sockets turned towards the surface and if his pale lips writhed in that same sad smile he had given him before he fell.

Itachi still cries when he remembers the weight of Shisui's eye in his palm, the viscosity of blood dripping from his fingers and the hole in his heart that nothing, not even the love he has for Sasuke, could ever fill again.

A part of him died up there on the cliff, while the river claimed his only friend.

Maybe it's poetic, in a way, that Itachi is also drowning presently.

His body is heavy, his breath is short.

He has a river in his veins and a lake in his chest.

The overly sharp bitterness of green tea, cut through by the almost cloying sweetness of honey, isn’t enough to disguise the iron taste that lingers on his tongue.

And when he coughs and his hand is dripping the same cursed red as that day, he can only smile.


	2. Komorebi [木漏れ日]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was in my hometown, which has a very nice Japanese garden in which I always have inspiration so here is an OS to celebrate.
> 
> The word used in the chapter title, Komorebi [木漏れ日] is a Japanese poetic term for the light that filters through the leaves of trees.
> 
> Everyone can interpret it as they wish, but in this OS, Shisui and Itachi maintain, for me, a purely platonic relationship. They are 12 and 15 years old respectively and although they can be considered "mature" in a certain sense, they are still children. Deadly children with a lot of trauma, but still children.

Breathing is hard. Lying on the ground, Itachi struggles to catch his breath. Behind his ribs, his heart is pounding. His whole body hurts and if he concentrates he can feel the bruises starting to form where Shisui's hits landed.

It’s a good pain.

There is too few “good pain” these days, so he enjoys the feeling while it lasts. Soon, too soon, he will have to return on missions and all that will remain is a dull weariness that sits deep in his bones, muscles strained from fatigue and the prolonged stress of too many sleepless nights. His stomach will be knotted, self-loathing like a hard lump in the pit of his stomach easing the hunger born of too few real meals.

Itachi is small for his age, with thin and delicate limbs.

But that's just an appearance, quickly contradicted by the supple, built muscles that, hidden under an almost oversized shirt, seem almost out of place on his child's body.

Child… is he really one ?

In the eyes of Shinobi law, he has been considered an adult since he graduated from the Academy. It didn't matter that he was only seven years old. His mind, his "genius" as others like to call it, shaped him as he is today, allowing him to stand on an equal footing with much older, more experienced people.

Again, experience is a relative thing.

After all, who else but him can brag about being recruited by Anbu when he was only 11?

Just over a decade old and here he is already, with more blood on his hands than most of his elders.

It’s sad.

It’s bittersweet sometimes to watch the genins, fresh out of academia, still childish and innocent.

It is painful, sometimes, to hold Sasuke with those soiled hands, stained with the blood of so many people that he can hardly see his skin through all the red covering them.

[ _He sees red, all the time, everywhere. In his father's eyes, in the blood that oozes from his wounds, in the one that splashes his hands, his arms, his chest, his face… The one in which he gradually drowns, the one that no bath seems to be able to detach from his skin, as if his crimes and sins were to be seen by all until his last breath._ ]

He is tired.

So, so _tired_.

If he could, he would stay there forever.

Lying in the tall, thick grass, between the roots of the trees born of the Shodaime. He could stay here, hidden in the greenery, watching the sun filter through the leaves, the play of light as hypnotic as it is soothing.

Nature is wilder here than anywhere else, the natural chakra heavy in the air. It wouldn't be long before he was gone, for the forest to feed on his flesh, to drink on his blood. Just a few moments before the roots suck his marrow until all that was left was his bare, pale bones exposed to the dim light.

He would be at peace here.

He could rest.

And maybe…

Maybe Shisui could too.

Shisui, his one and only friend.

Shisui, with soiled hands as his but whose heart is still good. Shisui, with a smile as bright as the sun, complete antithesis to the lunar coldness of Itachi and the rest of the Uchiha clan.

Shisui, with soft and honest eyes, who seems to gaze at his very soul whenever they fight and who seems to reach out only to grab Itachi's heart tenderly in the middle of his palm.

Shisui who is staring at him, leaning on his elbow, a soft smile on his lips and something indefinable in his dark eyes as he wraps a strand of Itachi's sleek hair around his finger.

Itachi's body is sore and his ribs will be mottled blue and purple in the coming days. His breathing is calm and measured, the impassive mask back on. His hands are still soiled, irreparably stained.

But as long as Shisui is there, as long as he looks at him like that…

Itachi can bear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may sound silly, but I am very proud of this OS.
> 
> Come find me at https://echtach-messy-place.tumblr.com/ !

**Author's Note:**

> Funny things, in French this OS is 421 words longs. In English, it's only 391 words long.
> 
> Come find me at https://echtach-messy-place.tumblr.com/ !


End file.
